Life's a Box of Donuts

This is a story of adventure, this is a story of loss, this is a story of love...for donuts.

I have loved donuts since that first donut I ate, which I’d like to say was a Long John probably around the age where it’s closeness to my name made it all the better.  Of course, I made that up, but the point is: donuts are delicious.

In high school, the time where I learned that I had a bit more control over my actions found me behind the wheel of a car headed to Dunkin Donuts on the way to friends late at night every few weeks.  Nighttime was key, especially the time when the workers magically transform your humble request for six donuts into 2 dozen thirty minutes before closing.

Living with four great friends senior year of college found me getting donuts when the task of whipping of French toast seemed like too much work.

But lately, my access to proper donuts has been nil.  Oh China, how you don’t really understand the world of baked/fried goods.  Sure, no one will fight your corner on the stir-fry or the sustainable way you eat so many parts of animals.  But China, I have to be honest with you, what you call donuts—not so great.

On Christmas, I found myself walking out of a Malaysian chain grocery with a sugar donut—the first decent one I had found.  In Hong Kong, I excitedly bought a donut to find it stuffed with red bean paste; bu yao.  So after years (and by years I mean two) of making cookies and cakes, I started watching Youtube recipes for Donuts.  Boy did it look easy!  “What had I never tried this before?”.  Sure frying can be dangerous, so I looked up baked donuts.

Excited, I bounced home, beaming that same smile I wore as a 5-year-old when genius ideas struck—cute, but I suspect always a bit unnerving for my parents. I watched an Aussie make baked donuts and I started mixing ingredients together.  During the 30 min chill time, I went for a run drooling over the though of homemade donuts.  I came back, opened the fridge, and took out the dough.

The dough, which smelled like vanilla and happiness, was quite sticky.  “All right,” I said.  I wasn’t about to give up.  I floured the counter and began to role out dough with parchment paper.  It stuck to the paper.  The dough stuck to parchment paper to the degree that the paper ripped and some of the dough ended up in the trash refusing to release itself from the paper.  I added more flour and the dough seemed better at first, and then returned to the degree of stickiness that bad bakers find in some strange circle of hell.

Frustrated, I washed my hands, leaving much dough glued on to my arm hair and texted Cynthia, a good friend.  She responded, but by this time I was again covered in dough.  Using my rather prominent nose, I dialed her.

“What do you mean extra flour can make things sticky?” I said, bent over a sticky mess.  Remembering recipes where one adds flour until desired consistency (for Giant Cinnamon rolls, etc.), I was not aware of this other property of flour.

But I was determined to make something!  I rolled out the dough with a wine bottle and found some circular objects in my house in true block-party-scavenger-hunt style.  I cut some shapes, though the dough still didn’t want to cooperate.  Eventually I had some strange shapes of dough on a tray in a toaster oven.  Some rolled by hand into circles, some cut, and some donut “holes”.

The oven smelled like a carnival—the unmistakable smell of funnel cakes filled the kitchen.  But when I checked on the donuts, they looked nothing like donuts.  They didn’t brown, they rose strangely, but they did smell wonderful.  I decided to try to fry the rest of the dough.

I filled a saucepan with some oil and dropped some dough in.  Some of them just soaked up oil, some browned.  Trying to save my project turned nightmare, I filled a Ziploc bag with cinnamon and sugar and tossed the fried pieces of dough inside, shaking them vigorously.

Eventually, it was over.  What did I have to show for all my effort, excitement, and frustration?  Baked scones, fried cinna-sugga strangeness, and an hour of scrubbing a countertop to rid my home of evidence of this travesty.  The scones were quite good, dense and light with a great flavor.  But a scone, no matter how nice, is not a donut and never will be.

A few weeks passed and something wonderful happened.  I received a text from Cynthia who found herself and her good friend Jane in Xi’an.  They had found a treasure of treasures: a Dunkin Donuts!  After traveling 712 km via plane, two glazed donuts sat in a Dunkin Donuts bag on my desk at work.

If you’ve seen the movie The Pursuit of Happiness you’ll know what kind of reaction happened—that kind of, let’s go outside and clap my hands and ooze joy for the world to see.  I didn’t know what to do with myself!  After unwrapping the first donut, my eyes widened.  The donut was gone before I had even sung it all the praises I had prepared.  Something’s never change.

Maybe I should be a cop.

Taking Care of Business

Last weekend (which is actually three weekends ago though that doesn’t ring true with teaching on Saturday and Sunday of this past weekend) Cynthia and I went to Beijing for a conference on highly effective teaching.  We left a day earlier to give us a chance to see some sights.  Our plane touched down Saturday afternoon to bluer than blue skies, a rarity in such a pollution-heavy metropolis.

Our first stop: the Forbidden City – the well-known palace of Imperial China moved to Beijing from further South to better rule the tough border with Mongolia.  The palace closes at 3:00pm in low-tourist season and we arrived around 3:35.  Thus, the Forbidden City will remain just that: forbidden.  We were able to walk through two entrances to the South Gate of the palace, the gate that faces Tiananmen Square.  The golden accented roofs atop the red walls gleamed in the sunshine.  No matter how much I pleaded, Mulan would not open the door for me, leaving me quite upset.

We trekked from the palace gate, back to the subway – an impossibly stuffed train.  We found our destination, a backpacker’s, in a “historic neighborhood.”  Zoning laws kept the buildings short and the streets narrow.  The backpacker’s runs trips to the Great Wall, so we paid our dues for the following morning, and then explored the streets on our of way to the hotel.

Exhausted, I found my bed after getting off at the wrong subway stop, having not-so-delicious pizza hut, and shopping for some supplies for our hike.

Sunday found me on my way to the Great Wall in a white van stuffed with laowai!  We all got to chatting immediately; a favorite part of traveling.  After a 3-hour ride, we arrived.  A quick (10 min) climb up some stairs, of course, got me onto the Great Wall! The Great Wall of China…I couldn’t believe it. The section I hiked, Jinshanling, did not look like the white/grey wall often depicted in pictures.  This section was stone, but browner and the lack of contrast in much of the landscape didn’t help it stand out.  The real attraction though was the 2^nd half or so of the hike, where the wall was fully unrestored.   Parts of the wall had no sides along the top and other parts climbed steeply with many broken stairs.  It had snowed the week before and traces of ice/snow were around.  The usual walk goes a bit further, but the next section of the wall was closed so we had to end a bit early.

Along the way, I got to talking and joking with many in our party.  Everyone seemed to be in good spirits—and how could they not be?  It was a gorgeous no-cloud-blue-sky day and we were walking along the Great Wall.  The end came too soon, and I had only snapped a couple pictures (you know, less than one hundred—which is just a couple).  Our guide, Emily –from the backpackers–, encouraged a fast pace which felt a bit rushed.  I took a moment at the end of the wall to pass out some Timtams (NZ cookies found at Carrefour in Beijing) to some of the group and after everyone went down, I took my Great Wall moment and just starred at it, and the mountains behind in the distance.

We returned to the backpackers where Cynthia and I decided to grab a beer with a couple we had met and two other guys.  The couple, from Holland, were wonderfully engaging; she a child psychologist and him an architect. Peking Duck was on everyone’s mind so together with an additional American traveler, we set out to find a place.  Well we found a place, and a backroom table, and even duck—though it wasn’t Peking duck.  Dinner was ridiculous—full of laughter between, what felt like, old friends.  I crack up even thinking about it.

Afterwards, Cynthia and I train-ed to the closed Tiananmen square and then back to our hotel; I’m just not great at seeing that palace area!

Monday, after an interesting breakfast, we met the other teachers and walked to one of the Dipont schools in Beijing for the conference.  It was were nice to hear the experiences of other teachers, though the AQM (academic quality manager) seemed to rush through some discussion points raised that may have been helpful to fully discuss.

Monday evening, Cynthia, Peter, Michael, and myself found Peking duck and more at a restaurant close to the school.  Good company and delicious duck, duck sauce, pancakes and more!  The wasabi cabbage rolls however, proved too much.  The first one I ate, smothered in Chinese wasabi opened up my sinuses in a whole new way---while the second went right to the stomach.  Peter had the sort of stories I hope to have when I’m close to 60 and Michael will be teaching AP Psychology next year in his center.

I returned to the hotel and watched some television in English—a real treat and then slept.

After a morning conference on Tuesday, Ryan, Cynthia, and I found a cab and headed to Tiananmen Square en route to the airport.  Ryan, and his wife Elizabeth, both teach at the A-level (British system) school in Chengdu.  His Chinese was good enough to have us pay the driver a bit extra for him to wait while Cynthia and I rushed around the world’s largest square!  Finally, I got in and walked a fast circle and left.  It is a large square, which about sums it up for me.

On the plane ride back, Ryan entertained us with stories and videos of his travels in China; he’s a bit of a goof.  Made it back home and made sure I was ready for 5 more workdays, as the upcoming holiday meant we had to have a 7-day work week?  China doesn’t seem to fully understand the point of time off, but I do, which is why I was heading to Sanya in Hainan, China’s southernmost province in 5 days for a quick 3-night trip.

Beijing seemed nice, but the 4 days of super-blue sky did not properly represent the city’s image.  I’ve since heard that some schools have indoor recess some days, when the pollution is too high.  That alone, is enough to make me quite hesitant to return to Beijing.

My first business trip was a success, though I lack a good business trip demeanor.  Guess I’m still a kid, which is fine by me.

"the great China adventure"

the tile of this post is a shout out to Into the Wild.  Alex (Chris) also refers to his "Great Alaskan Adventure".  I'm beginning to understand why people adventuring don't usually have books written about them with the sentence "and then he headed back home as it was Sunday night and I have to work to support this lifestyle."  Work and adventuring are not working out as I thought they would.  Perhaps a given of life that I was too naive to notice, but it's been a big let down.  When I think about what I'll be doing a year from today, I am fully clueless!  But if I'm going to live abroad, perhaps I need to go for a 9-5 job or bar-tending or something less career-y.  Studying in NZ was ideal, but I know an experience like that comes once in a lifetime.  But I know there are jobs out there that would leave me feeling more energized rather than drained...

Last night I went to my 4th music concert in three weeks.  It was pretty sweet music with one song with a chorus about California.  Most of the words were in Chinese, which funnily enough, is starting to be a problem!  I've gotten much much better at listening to the lyrics of music here, whereas before China I always just wanted to hear music for music.  Perhaps, I cling to the English that I can hear?  I dunno, but it's been an awesome ride re-discovering my iTunes library.

Jerry organized the trip last night buying everyone's ticket at a pre-sale: it's apparently a more well-known band.  After school, which involved me showing the Holstee Life Manifesto video to my students and, perhaps, ranting about what their next four years could be like (I swear it was relevant to developmental psychology), Cynthia and I met Jerry and a few of his friends at the good ole #30 bus stop.  But the bus didn't come right away and we were late so we called for an illegal car.

A van showed up, you know, the kind that if it gets in a crash everyone dies.  Thin walls, no seat belts, bench seats covered in cloth.  Needless to say it was a very bumpy ride leaving this kid wanting to own a van such as this.  The van took us to Little Bar, the site of 3 of the 4 musical acts I've seen.

The first show I saw was at Hemp Bar, sounds cool, but was pretty boring that night.  The band seemed like a garage band who still thought they were in a garage, not much audience interaction.  Though, there wasn't much audience.  They did cover Blink 182 which was very welcome.

The second show, the next day, was epic-ly awesome.  It ranks up there in shows I've seen.  A Mongolian-Folk/Rock band!  The vocals were fantastic, two guys with some harmonies, throat singing, and yodeling? They had some ehru-like instruments, electric guitar, and an awesome drummer with some beads on his cymbals for a different sound.  I can't find their music anywhere which is upsetting, but if they show up again, I'll see 'em again.  They blew me away.  I was lucky to have my camera on me as Cynthia and I had been to Dafu (the biggest Buddha statue) in Leshan earlier that day.  (It's a HUGE Buddha, which pretty much sums up the experience).

The third show, last weekend, was interesting, which yes, means not as great as the 2nd one.  The opening act was pretty bad, weak singing that didn't really seem to hook anyone in the audience.  The band was better, but much of their music played on their humorous lyrics as judged from the audience's reaction.  Dave, a teacher at a different Dipont school, and his finance joined me and Cynthia for the show.

Finally, last night, the most expensive show so far at 60RMB is ranked 2nd for my Chinese shows.  The guitar rifts reminded me of SO much music and they got the crowd moving, moshing, and crowd-surfing (in this tiny Little Bar).  Their energy was welcome after another long week at school, but with this new schedule, I seem to lack my usual Friday energy.

This band looked as established as the Mongolians (who wore traditional garb) if not more.  The bassist had a tattooed neck, top hat, and long curly hair.  He wore a crazy jacket and lived up to the "bassists are weird" sterotype.  But such a good weird.  The lead singer wore Aviators, had longish hair, low cut black shirt, and a red jacket.  He reminded me much of every 80s movie ever.  Finally the drummer who had awesome hair/style.  A very thick mohawk with shaved sides of his hair, Raybands, and a scarf around the neck: he had the kind of image that would sell a CD.  Their style was established as was their playing: musically they were wonderful.  Their lyrics, or at least, their English lyrics were a bit interesting.  Overall, a fun show with lots of energy.

So, I'm not doing too badly.  I'm getting much better at caring for my house and cooking for myself.  But now I need to work at my social life.  Which is...the first time I've ever had this thought?  This is my first time not at school where you are constantly surrounded by peers and friends.  In real life, you talk to a stranger at a bar and form that first acquaintance, and you may never see then again, whereas in college or high school, you're bound to run into them.  Now add the fact that not many people here speak English, and a social life becomes slightly frustrating, especially, when during the weekend, I'm exhausted from the week!

However, one of my goals for this experience has been to spend more time with myself and, I have to say, this time is paying off.  Do I miss living with others? You betcha, but that whole school thing I've been doing since I was a wee thing never really left me much time to myself.  Nor does my typical extroverted self crave this time.  And as balance became important to me in college, I still feel I need more of this time, even if much of it coming by default rather than choice.

All in all, what I've learned from this experience I hope to use to help me pick my next one. As long as I remember that I will care about my job no matter how stressed it makes me, that I am capable of spending time with myself, but do prefer social living conditions, and that I have to sometimes schedule in time to relax and stick to that plan, then I think things will get even better!

Fun Even Without the Sun (It's Friday!)

It's Friday!

I apologize if any part of Rebecca Black's single just started playing in your head.  But hey, it IS Friday.  So I blogged about how much stress there is in my job and then guess what? All the stress is gone!

Okay--no, not really, not that good.  But it is Friday, which feels good.  I'm at work about to start planning out Monday AND Tuesday's lesson (cuz I was a bit more on top of my work this week).  I just picked a band "Time Reversal" to see tonight at a bar called Hemp House.  ALSO, last night I got to talk to Katie, the head of Dipont fellows.  The company lacks some communication and Chengdu is very much far away from the other centers, so people did not really realize that there was a Dipont fellow here.  Oh well, that's okay, problem is solved and some of my bosses have said some really nice things about me for sticking through the 4 months of no contact with the greater structure.

I'm left feeling a bit stronger as I have been working in independently since October.  To my credit, I did try to reach out but didn't have the right names to e-mail.  Now though, I am connected to the network of fellows and Katie will be checking in with me every week.  It sounds like every center has some trouble, but that's to be expected as the rate of change in this country is so fast.  I also feel better because I've gotten some things done.  The work is not over and teaching Psychology is very much getting in the way of my other duties, but I'm about to start teaching developmental psychology on Monday and really can't wait.  The kids have figured out I have a background in acting...not sure how the figured that out...lol.

Today is also great because I took a 40 min piano break after my 7:30 college session.  And that always feels good.

 I have believed for years that I am able to determine my own happiness.  Part of that skill is choosing what to focus on.  No, it doesn't mean flat-out ignoring everything that bothers oneself.  It involves tracking down chocolate chips and coconut flakes and making cookies.  Or, buying a mop that is the COOLEST mop I have ever owned.  (I made a fantastic decision this week that a 200RMB mop was worth it.  Never again shall I clean my floors on my knees; I shall use technology!  And seriously, this mop feels very high-tech.  The mop head rotates and after dipping it in the water you can place it in this cup-like structure and as you press down, it SPINS!  Essentially I've purchased an 80s cleaning montage accessory.)

And this is all great news: I can become excited about buying a mop!  A simpleton maybe, but hey, it brought smiles and childlike laughter to my tired-looking face; the same laugh when I ride my bike.  Gosh, I may be holding on to all these responsibilities, but I'm still me.  Sure, I felt stuck and do during the week with all my time seeming to belong to others, but I'm making that choice.  I choose to do 110% for this job because I do care.  There, I've said it, it's out there for all to see.

The best part? I'm in China.  I forget this in all the stress through the week and then end up spending my weekends not taking advantage of this wonderful opportunity.  But not tonight.  Tonight I'm going to my first live show to see "Time Reversal" a pop/rock Chinese band.  I don't know anything about them, but I bet, if I keep this feeling, it's gonna be great.

So I have a choice, and I'm gonna choose to be happy.  If this experience keeps being stressful and I keep being able to rise above it, then this will be really what I came here to do.  To push myself and learn how to better cope with the stress of the kind of life I want to lead: fast-paced and a bit ridiculous.

Wishing you all a merry weekend.  Go do something fun!

Teach, Work, Sleep

Let me start this entry off with: Life is good.  It is good.  Or perhaps, it will be good.

I am beyond stressed at work.  I don't want to write this entry, I'd rather skip it and wait until it's all good again.  But this is the beginning of the second and half week of craziness.  Did I have a good rest of break? You betcha and I'll write about it later...should I ever find the time.  Still have way to many pictures to edit, though I finally managed to get the ones of Jiuzhaigou online.

So the stress...

My job changed.  This new job doesn't feel very similar to my one last semester.  For living in a place that prides itself on moving slowly like its pandas, I am moving at NYC speed x 12.  This semester I teach a college workshop every morning I teach (M, T, R, & F).  Which means getting up at 6:40, eating a banana, drinking a glass of water, brushing my teeth, putting on some pants, shoes, and biking like a madman to school.

You know that Jackie Chan film with the awesome bike stunts? Yeah, I'm getting good at 'em.

Once at school I race up the 5 flights of stairs, rip open my bag, button up a shirt, and grab my college notebook.  I head to a room (I rotate through all the rooms each week) and boom, I start.

After my 30 min workshop, I mix oats and yogurt together  (kept at school) and eat them too fast as I slush back OJ.  If you know me, then you know this is NOT my ideal pace of life.  Yes I can run fast, but not like this, not with a rushed breakfast.  Get up earlier you say? Ah-ha! But you forget that often I'm up planning lessons until bedtime.

I'm still teaching AP psychology.  Now 9 periods over 4 days, means every class is at least a double.  On Friday I don't teach until the afternoon, so I spend the time after my college workshop sulking about lack of proper sleep and wishing I had a place to sleep at school.  Not ideal.  I'm still no better at planning lessons, but now thanks to new responsibilities have even less time than before.

I now am very much an assistant college counselor, if not a college counselor.  My boss's boss showed up last week for a visit (a boss of a boss I didn't know I had).  She helped Jane (the counselor assigned to my school) and I prepare materials--brand new materials.  Brand new materials that I had been working on all last semester!!!  Would've been nice to a.) have some help or b.) know that much of what I was creating already existed.  Don't get me started.  Regardless, her visit helped Jane and I make a whole new plan for this semester.  I'm excited that I've helped make chance, but honestly, too exhausted to really care.

Also now in my college counseling duties, besides the morning workshops, is meeting with every Senior 2 (junior) student and their parent....at lunch.  With about 15 meetings a week or so.  Now when my principal made the schedule, he figures our lunch hours are "off" but mine are going to be "on" but due to the scheduling of a staff meeting and activities, the earliest I leave is 3:00 on Monday and the latest I leave is 6:20 on Tuesday and Thursday.

Recap, up at 6:40 -- leaving later in the afternoon.  Sure, not all the time is in a classroom or a meeting, which means the rest I spend trying to plan for the hope that one day when I go home, I won't have to work.  Has yet to happen.

BUT-- there is a small light here.  Activities.  Although they are more work, I now run a music club on Tuesdays and lead a story theater ensemble on Thursdays.  My music club has yet to take its form as last Tuesday was our first meeting.  I started it off with Adele--as I discussed the Grammy's.  For tomorrow, they are supposed to bring in their favorite song.  I've heard they'd like to change the club's format and that's great--if they have a change.  It seems often Chinese students (perhaps many high school students?) want change, as in, they're not happy with the way thing are.  Usually, they don't have a better way though.  What did Gandhi say?  Regardless I'm very open to their ideas and crossing my fingers they have some!

Story theater last Thursday was AWESOME.  After being exhausted (spent way too much time downtown at the office on Wednesday), I somehow found the energy to "shake up the space" with my students.  Story theater and I first met my sophomore year in high school at Piven theater in Evanston (yes, Jeremy Piven is related).  It was a quick love as it combines story-telling with improv, what's not to like?  My 9 students were a bit hesitant, but by the end of our first session (90 mins) they were beginning to "find the stories".  This means, they were able to use their physicality in exercise to generate original impromptu stories.  I was very impressed with them and cannot wait until Thursday.

My weekend was nice, but all I wanted to do was sleep.  I promised myself, probably a similar promise to many Vassar grads, that I would never be in a job that I didn't like.  Well this past week and half has been very very trying and I keep thinking of that promise.  What's funny is, I want all the responsibility and I enjoy being in the classroom and talking with the students about college.  My schedule though is so split that I have 2-hour blocks of nothing where I feel like going home isn't worth it and thus stay at the slow Internet school where it's hard to get my lessons planned.  Hopefully the schedule will change, but the future looks bleak.

I keep reminding myself though that I want to take a Chinese class, but can't find the time.  I want to explore Chengdu, but can't find the energy.  Yes, I do go out on weekends, but I'd rather have the energy for a day outing than a night one.

The worst feeling for an adventurer is to feel stuck.  It scares us.  But here I am feeling quite glued down.

It's 9:43 PM.  I'm exhausted and just got home from a meeting at school about a  student that wants to switch programs and have no tangible plan for tomorrow's class.  The bags underneath my eyes mean I'm going to be reckless and go to sleep instead of planning.  Damn, it's a good thing I can think on my feet.

Hoping for a miracle at work to give me the time I seek to do the things I came here to do.

To Narnina and Back Again: A Johnny's Tale

I am glued to a traditional Tibetan stove.  The stove is fire-fueled and boasts three different types of pots and cookware.  A large round pot holds warm bitter tea.  It's one of three sources of warmth on this crisp, dark evening.  The second is Ama's smile.  I think I'm smiling at her too much, but I can't help it.  She possesses a rare warmth that exudes from her eyes, her smile, and is most potent in her laugh.  Her face, weathered and strong, sits above fantastically colorful clothing full of reds, oranges, and turquoise-blue.  Her band-aid-ed hands suggest a culinary prowess that is perhaps slowed by age.  She notices that I've taken a sip of my tea, and brings over a large ladle to refill the few sips missing.  It is rather bitter tea.

In the room with me is a cat, that I'm sure is actually a dog--it begs like a dog, it wants attention like a dog, and it eats like a dog, devouring hunks of hard Tibetan bread.  Two of Ama's grandchildren are also in the room: a 4-year-old who has the energy of...a 4-year-old, and a 10-year-old with a goofy grin.  Earlier, the 4-year-old was showing me his super-duper-light-up sword.  I must have killed him a dozen times.  He seemed to want to learn some of the English alphabet, but really desired to call every letter "A, B, C" over and over.  We also played what seemed to be his favorite game of all: crawl on the laowai (foreigner).

The third source of warmth in the room is the walls.  Four walls and the ceiling have been hand painted with bright designs.  A landscape of Lhasa's Potala Palace adorns one of the walls.  The swastikas on the walls give me pause, even though I know they were Buddhist first.  The warmth of the walls, Ama's presence, and the stove are well-appreciated by my tired body.

Today started at 5:30AM, after going to bed a bit too late.  I wore the latest in traveler fashion: a large puffy coat, sweat pants, hiking boots, a large pack, and a goofy grin: never leave home without it.  At the bus station, I boarded and picked a seat.  I fought the urge to get off and pee, a decision I would regret.  Two hours into the bus ride, I pulled out my Chinese-English dictionary looking for 'bathroom' in desperation.  Luck was on my side, the bus pulled over as I found the word.  I sprinted to the restroom and as I exited a man gestured for me to pay.  I gestured "how much?".  He held up a finger.  Sir, I would've paid you so much more.  Two hours down; around eight left.

I returned to my seat next to 'morning breath'.  Maybe she was a very sweet girl, but she kept positioning her mouth in such a way that no matter how I moved, her breathe flowed right into my nose/mouth.  After peeing however, and finding myself in a far better mood, I smiled at her.  Which ended up insuring that every time the bus stopped, she would politely let me pass.

At the edge of the Chengdu basin, we tunneled through mountains.  The route to Jiuzhaigou snakes through mountain passes and valleys, while climbing and climbing.  Hairpin turn after hairpin turn left my stomach turning down my offers of food.  The river, which started off quite murky, changed to blue-green and became more and more beautiful as we drove.  Eventually we were soaring though a plateau at an elevation close to 4,000 meters.  We climbed away from the plateau and crossed the 4,000 meters mark in six inches of snow!  The bus stopped to put on its chains and the rest of the journey was a lot slower as we descended down 2,000 meters.

The scenery on the journey was breath-taking (or perhaps the lack of oxygen).  The windows prevented good pictures, but I am left with wonderful memories.  The snow-covered pine trees, mists, and small stone towns were out of this world, and thus, obviously, Narnia.

Eventually, the bus driver called "lao wai."  I guessed it was my time to get off.  I found myself across from two big advertisements in a thin mountain pass.  I called Zhou Ma, the host of the home-stay, and found my way (with the help of a too eager cab driver) to the family's Tibetan restaurant.

Zhou Ma, who speaks a bit of English, warmly greeted me.  She is Tibetan, but wears trendy clothing which reveals her youth.  Her brother takes me to Ama's, where I will stay.  He wears a fedora, likes music, and is very smiley.  We take his jeep off the main road, and up a very very narrow 'road' to Ama's.  Tibetans, and thus prayer flags, are everywhere, including the entrance of the house.

Dinner is served soon after I arrive and is a bit of disappointment.  The yak meat is tough and not very flavorful and the spice offered to dunk the yak meat in is a bit too much.  The potatoes, however, are a real treat.  I learned later that they are "the best potatoes in years".  Had I possessed more self-awareness, I may have realized that the reason the food didn't taste too good may have been because I wasn't feeling good.  Two hours after dinner, that self-awareness came as I vomited the contents of the day into their Western toilet.

I hadn't thrown up in years and was surprised by how easy it was nowadays, as compared to the stomach flu days of my youth.  Of course, with my Mom 10,000 miles away, I finally chose to follow her advice and breathe deeply and relax.  My task completed, I returned to the warmth of the room and gestured what had happened.  Ama returned with a vile of brown liquid after gesturing a bus turning a lot.  I drank the contents of the mysterious liquid.  She gestured that I'd wake up tomorrow feeling better.  I hope so.  I hope that it's just bus-sick and not altitude sickness.  I have never been 4,000 meters high until today, nor have I even slept at 2,000 meters.  Thus this weekend would be the highest I had ever lived.

The calmness I felt while sick alone in a place where no one speaks my language showed me that I possess some strength.  Is this why I travel? For a chance to prove myself strong?

Thoughts written down, stomach calm, I decided to get some sleep.  The electric blanket and the heaps of other blankets made for a cozy nest, even if the room temperature was quite cold.  After I was settled in bed, my roommate showed up: Eric, a PhD candidate.  From California originally, he had made Switzerland his home for the past 10 years.  We chatted for a bit before sleep.

Though I didn't sleep much--my stomach kept refusing to lie comfortably in any position.  When I can't sleep, I use to freak out about not sleeping.  But in college I came to realize how stupid that is: it's very hard to fall asleep when you're stress yourself out.  So nowadays, I just relax and think that at least I'm resting if not sleeping.  I find this increases my chances of falling asleep sooner.

I awoke feeling still a bit out of it, but decided, after a quick breakfast of a fried egg, Tibetan bread and honey, and yak-butter tea, to go ahead with my plan of exploring Jiuzhaigou.  The yak butter tea was interesting.  As Eric warned, it tastes a lot better than it smells.  With chunks of nuts, yak butter, sugar, and tea, it was an exotic blend of flavors.  Each sip improved its taste, and eventually I was sipping it happily.

It had snowed and the whole landscape had been transformed into a winter wonderland.  As it rarely, if ever, snows in Chengdu, I was bent on seeing snow during this break and thrilled at my good fortune: not only had it snowed, but it was a blue-sky sunny day!

Zhou Ma's brother picked me up and drove me, Kerrin, and the two boys.  Kerrin is a Dublin bloke who has been working at the park, helping with their Eco-Tourism as well as translating.  He pointed me to the front entrance when we arrived.  I paid for the entrance ticket (100RMB for 2-day in winter) and a bus ticket (80RMB/day).

Jiuzhaigou is Narnia.  Of this I am sure.  Vividly-bright blue waters, sweeping waterfalls, and peaks reaching out towards the sun.  I explored the park with the help of a map from a German-South African couple.  The crisp air and the sun started making me feel better.  I munched on some honey and bread from Ama and a very wrinkled apple, siting and soaking in my view: mineral-colored water with a backdrop of snow and peaks.

The upside of Jiuzhaigou in winter is the absence of people.  There are plenty of pictures of the National Park in other seasons with people shuffling on boardwalks, no space to breathe.  The downside in winter is that they park staff are lazy (or not there) and as the admission is cheaper, they don't pay anyone to clear much of the paths (or just don't do it).  Fine by me with my hiking boots, but because many Chinese tourists refuse to wear anything other than high heels (even up mountains), much of the park is closed off with "Fire Danger" signs.  I was temped to jump signs, but everything that I wanted to see what open, just not the paths between, so the bus ticket was very handy.

Jiuzhaigou gets its name from the nine (jiu) Tibetan villages in the valley.  They somehow escaped much of the Han people for many years and are now protected as they are in the National Park (and a major course of tourism).  My second day in the park found me touring with Eric, Anne, and Sarah.  Anne, a senior at MIT, and Sarah, her sister on a gap year before U of Chicago, were exploring China together.  Sarah had been in class in China in the fall and was finishing her Chinese adventure.  I could not believe a Vassar grad, PhD candidate, a future MIT grad (and Md), and a U Chicago future student had found each other in this place!  Granted Eric's PhD was about Jiuzhaigou, but still, what are the odds?  They all spoke Chinese, pretty fluently, which made me not feel left out, but driven to learn some more Chinese.

We toured much of the same sites I'd seen before (as with winter closing, there just isn't as much to do).  But the lighting was different and the company was nice.  Our first stop, a big lake, proved to be a chance to Macgyver.  Anne dropped her lens cap (of a very nice camera) into the frozen lake.  The boardwalk was a ways above the surface, but I happen to posses these crazy-long-arms.  With the help of an umbrella and the combined weight of Sarah and Eric on my legs, I was able to scoop up the lens cap on the umbrella and save the day!  If that didn't work, we did have a piece of gum.  Anne had given up on the lens cap after she dropped, but once we started trying to help, we all knew it had to happen.  I still can't believe it worked as my arm was just long enough to barely touch the ice with the umbrella.  Needless to say I got a wonderful ab workout as I braced myself from falling into the strange mineral water.

After another beautiful day, the four of us headed back to the restaurant where we ordered yak meat baozi (round steamed dumplings).  The yak meat was out-of-this-world good.  After a long day walking around, and feeling much better with a returned appetite, I savored each bite.

On the bus the next morning, I thought about what a wonderful weekend I had.  After all the stress of grading, parent-meetings (where 7 of my 30 students' parents showed up), it was nice to escape to such a wonderful place.  I'll never forget the morning of my second day as I watched and photographed Ama call her sheep from a few houses over.  They walked down the road to her.  No dogs, no aggravation, nothing.   Just well-trained sheep.  Thinking back to the day I sheep-headed in NZ until I was hoarse, I was beyond amused by the Tibetan way: so simple, so effective.

The bus ride back was shorter and I felt much better, though at that 4,000 meter mark I did try to remain super hydrated.  If you ever find yourself in Sichuan province or Chengdu, going to Jiuzhaigou is a must.  Not only is it a world-heritage site, but it really is a magical place.  Though, you may only need the two to three days recommended in summer crowds!  And you must stay at Zhou Ma's Homestay.  It was 180RMB/night, but in includes breakfast, dinner, light lunch, and transportation to and from the park and help with buses.  It's about 30 US, so really, it's a steal considering your lodging becomes part of the reason for going.

Man, it's nice to be on break!

End of Semester 1

This is an older entry, I've been trying to stay busy over break which started two weeks ago, one left.

After thinking long and hard about what to do with my class and their final exam, I made a decision.  I averaged the grades they gave themselves with the ones I gave them.  Seeing as no group received a higher grade than a D from me, as I was a bit appalled at their work, I didn't think that was fully fair.  Some of my students had e-mailed me trying to explain, and although I still think I was right to be upset, I realized that we (the students and I) had very different expectations about this presentation exam.

Thus, I wrote my students a very very long e-mail in which I explained my academic history--where I'm coming from.  Then I explained what they should've known about their exam (no talking, no profanity, etc).  Finally, I explained where the disconnect might be and then offered them a choice.  I told them I'm your psychology teacher until May.  I've made my choice and will do my best to teach you.  But you have a choice: do you want to learn from me?  (I gave them the, if yes..., but refused to write an if no as that's not hopefully a realistic option...finger crossed).

It may not be teaching-kosher, and this may be where I show the fact that I have never been trained at teaching.  However, I got a WONDERFUL response from my students.  Some showed critical thinking and self-awareness while writing apologies for their behavior for the whole year.  I couldn't believe that they even read the e-mail!  Also, they explained a lot of their side about this experience; something that is really helpful.

Maybe I've watched too many "Freedom Writers" type movies where teachers show tough love and get a response, but that's me!  I am a teacher who will explain to my students, especially as they are 17 and 18, why they are in trouble.  We learned in psychology that that's good parenting and boy are teachers parent-figures.  Yes, you may have had a bad teacher once, or twice, but some of those "bad" teachers are great teachers--ones like good parents who are tough, but loving.  Though as there are strict teacher-student guidelines, it's much harder as a teacher to show the loving side and, often, not always appropriate.  So I try to show it with explanation.

I had to send, let's say, Walt, a kid who rarely does any work out to the principal's office as he refused to do any work after several warnings.  I finished teaching the period and then rushed to the office to find him chatting with other students!  The principal was out as Mark often is as he has another school, but I can't send kids to the Chinese principal as he's irrational when it comes to discipline and the kids don't respect him.

So I took Walt out into the hall and asked him what's going on.  I was surprised by his lack of response to me.  I even dared ask him if he understood English, he said he did.  Okay...so, what's going on?  I realize with hindsight that a teacher has probably never asked him this before.  He's had his study habits for a while.  But I remember those kids when I was in high school.  I felt sorry for them as prior teachers would talk to new teachers and the poor kid was doomed to always be pegged as a slacker, non-worker, sleeper, etc.  And I know those studies where they lie to teachers and tell them these students are star students where they're really weak students, but then drastically improve.  But not when I'm the teacher.  Everyone deserves a chance, maybe even two or three, especially when you're 17 or 18!

Eventually Walt spoke.  He felt there was no reason to try in my class because he was failing and there was no way he could pass. EUREKA!  That's it??? THAT'S IT??? Alright, he bit; he gave me information, now to use those people skills!  Walt, you came to the class late and are failing because you've never even tried.  You came in the first day, looked at me, and decided I wasn't worth your time.  I'm still willing to teach you, but YOU have to at least give me a week.  Pay attention for a week, I promise I say interesting things...it's psychology: we talk about all of you and how you feel, think, behave, and more!

After our talk, he returned to class with his head up.  He's kept up the behavior since, though the semester ended soon after.  But what a learning experience?  After studying psychology for the past 4 years I have come to one big conclusion: there is always a reason.  I find if I can expose those reasons for actions I don't understand, not only can I act with greater understanding, but I find it easier to resolve conflicts when I know what the cause might be.  Walt trusted me enough to explain, and thus, my hopes are restored.

So I treated the class with that e-mail in the same way: I trusted them.  Teaching, like parenting, takes immense trust.  I'm pleased to say that all but 4 of my students passed my class, which is high for our center.  Sure, my class is easier than Physics C, Stats, Econ, and the other APs, but I also made it a goal to pass them.  Which again, may seem strange, but if a student fails once (like most of the students have in years past...it's a flawed system) then if I can pass them, maybe it'll be the spark to rekindle their passion for learning.  It's hard to want to try when you feel there's no hope.

Which brings me to my semester goal: rekindle their passion for life.  These kids spend hours upon hours playing video games and doing not much else.  But these kids could be so interesting!  I've assigned them a chapter to read and questions to do as well as a special assignment: do something that inspires you over break.  I feel this is crucial as these kids are so burnt out that I fear for them next year.

It's going to be a very interesting semester.  I can't wait.